


Sugar

by driftinganima



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Extra Viktor, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Happily Married Viktuuri, Happy Birthday Katsuki Yuuri, Happy Birthday Yuuri!, M/M, Married Couple, SHY YUURI SINGING BUT GANBA, Singing, Smut, The "It was only supposed to be fluff" but then it kinda happened, VIKTOR SINGING, Viktor is the king of extras, You know what Viktor gave him, Yuuri is Eros Incarnate, birthday gifts, delayed gratification, domestic life, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftinganima/pseuds/driftinganima
Summary: Viktor smiles at him apologetically, a hand now perching on the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I actually… thought that you have a hidden talent in singing.”Yuuri raises a brow at him. “What made you say that?”Mirth suddenly makes Viktor’s face aglow. “Do you really want to know how high your voice is when you scream? At night?” And he lets out a chuckle, the hand touching his neck now sliding on the curve of Yuuri’s waist.-In which Yuuri is a great dancer, but never the singer. Viktor doesn’t know, but makes up for it anyway.





	Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> All disclaimers apply. Also dedicated to the passionate people of #yoiconph2017, and to the #ThirstyTitas.

 

Yuuri has always been a man of many talents, and his seemingly limitless plethora of skills has always surprised Viktor.

While it is one of the best things Viktor could have asked for, it also raised the bar in terms of surprising Yuuri back—what else can he give to his husband, now that he has his love? (Viktor quirks a brow and stares at Makkachin, who only tilts his head in wonder.)

A few days before Yuuri’s birthday, Viktor decided to pay a visit in the nearest mall. If he had the time, he could have gone to malls Yuuri hasn’t visited yet, but Viktor wanted to keep the element of surprise—when he left, his sleeping beauty is still in his slumbering glory, probably tired from last night’s pretty… extreme activities. If Yuuri wakes up without him around (as Viktor never mentioned anything about going out), he will surely wonder, and the surprise might be for a naught.

His eyes dart from left to right, but none of the items in the mall catches his interest.

Until he spots the music store, and damn, he did get _ensnared_.

At the leftmost corner of the display rack in front of the store sat a karaoke microphone. The microphone’s body is wrapped with cylindrical bronze, which shone amber when reflected by light. Yuuri’s eyes aren’t exactly amber, but sometimes when the sunlight reflects in his orbs, Viktor can witness a play of brown hues. He has decided long ago that while he loves whatever eye color Yuuri may have, whether using contact lenses or not, amber is one of the colors that suit him the most.

Simply remembering Yuuri’s beauty helps the pink spread on his cheeks.

“Perfect!” He exclaims, and giddily runs in the music store.

-

Except it isn’t.

The moment Yuuri tears the blue wrapper and sees the microphone box, the excitement reigning his face when they sat on the carpeted floor is flushed by a mixture of wonder and gratitude. But what Viktor sees beyond it is the slight jerking of Yuuri’s shoulders, unknowingly letting his embarrassment shown.

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?” Viktor asks. He tries hard to mask how nervous he is, inwardly berating himself for choosing a gift Yuuri may not have liked. However, hiding even his slimmest frustration doesn’t go unnoticed, and Yuuri looks at him anxiously.

“A-ah!” He defensively waves his palms in front of him, then places his hands on his lap, curling and unfurling his fingers.

Viktor leans in. “Yuu~ri?”

Yuuri hangs his head low, but tries hard to meet Viktor’s eyes. Viktor’s tummy does a summersault at the high-level of adorable-cute in front of him. “It’s just that… I don’t— _can’t…_ sing…” His voice shushes to a whisper, but Viktor hears it clear.

He mentally kicks his head. _Of course he can’t do everything!_ If only Viktor can cry now. _Ahhh, way to go, Viktor! Yuuri is upset!_

Makkachin prods into the living room and rests his forepaws on Yuuri’s thigh. The poodle is as charming as ever, minus the fact that his beady eyes are staring into Viktor’s as if he’s saying, “You screwed up, dad.”

Cold sweat prickles his skin. He needs to make up for it.

He needs to do something!

“D-Don’t worry, Viktor! I actually like it!” Yuuri quickly pipes up, and Viktor can only feel guiltier about having Yuuri needing to assure him about his failure. Ah, he loves how much Yuuri loves him despite his own petty shortcomings.

But, Viktor is a man of surprises himself.

His lips curl to a gentle smile, the idea quickly taking form in his head.

“Viktor?” Now, Yuuri leans forward.

Viktor reaches for the box, his fingertips brushing against Yuuri’s. “Will you unbox it for me, my love?”

Yuuri instantly short-circuits, cheeks and ears red. Viktor often says the most embarrassing yet sweetest words at the most unexpected times. “A-ah…” He nods, and gingerly tears away all of the blue-silver wrapping, revealing the microphone box. Opening the lids, he sees the netted metallic pattern of the microphone head, and he reaches out to the metallic handle of the cordless mic. His eyes sweep up and down the stem of the mic, the anxiety he had a while ago tucked unforgotten in the corner of his mind.

“It’s…” Yuuri whispers, breathtaken as he turns the microphone around. The cozy yellow light of the living room reflects on the bronze of the mic, and back to Yuuri’s eyes.

Viktor savors the warmth as he beholds the sight in front of him—if there’s someone who’s _clearly_ breath-taken now, it has to be him. “Beautiful, right?”

He stretches his arm and cups Yuuri’s hand holding the microphone. “May I borrow this for a while?”

As soon as Yuuri regains his own composure from the sudden hitch of his shoulders, he gives the microphone – his microphone – to Viktor.

Viktor brings the microphone before his mouth, his free hand seeking for Yuuri’s. His fingers tangle with his husbands’, and he starts to sing.

 _“I'm hurting, baby, I'm broken down. I need your loving, loving, I need it now.”_ Voice smooth and tempo slow and mellow, he pauses to lightly squeeze into Yuuri’s palm. _“When I'm without you, I'm something weak.”_ Viktor reflects the smile that finally breaks into Yuuri’s face, letting himself put more feelings with matching head motions for his next line. _“You got me begging, begging I’m on my knees.”_ He bangs his head from left to right, and literally plants his knees on the carpet in front of Yuuri, who giggles in disbelief.

“ _I don’t wanna be needing your love, I just wanna be deep in your love, and it’s killing me when you’re away—“_ Viktor’s eyebrows scrunch up, his hand swaying Yuuri’s to make him sway with him. He suddenly brings Yuuri’s knuckles to his lips before he continues to sing, “ _—ooh baby! ‘Cause I really don’t care where you are, I just wanna be there where you are, and I gotta get—”_ He kisses Yuuri’s hand again. “— _one little taste.”_ He seals the pre-chorus with a wink, and Yuuri chuckles with his eyebrows stitched up.

Viktor lets go of Yuuri’s hand and stands up, microphone turned off but his low and suave voice still in its pursuit of serenading Yuuri. “ _Sugar? Yes please! Won’t you come and put it down on me?”_ He extends his free arm and splays his fingers to him, while taking a few steps backwards. “ _I’m right here, ‘cause I need—“_ Viktor shuffles from his left to right foot while motioning backwards, hand still reaching out. “ _—little love, a little sympathy!”_ He spins with one arm up, and Yuuri doesn’t stop himself from laughing. Hearing his _sugar’s_ saccharine laughter melts his gut, and he instantly feels the warmth spread through him.

“ _Yeah, you show me good loving, make it alright.”_ Viktor sways his hips from side to side, feet still going backwards, and Yuuri— _Yuuri_ knows where this song is going. Where they are going. “ _Need a little sweetness in my life._ _Sugar? Yes please!”_ Viktor shifts the microphone to his other hand, and Yuuri can only bite his lower lip with his fingers massaging his forehead, thinking he has effectively concealed his smile. “ _Won’t you come and put it down on me?”_

Viktor closes at the first half of the song, his hand still extended towards Yuuri. “Won’t you, _sugar?”_

Yuuri looks at him through the slips between his fingers, red from ears to his neck. “O-of course.” He gives a last pat on Makkachin’s back, and gently stands up. His footsteps pad on the floor as he walks towards Viktor.

With a heave, he snatches the microphone from Viktor.

“It’s unfair that I didn’t know that you actually sing.” Yuuri looks at the microphone as if it is an offensive object, but after a beat, he allows himself to glance up and stare directly in Viktor’s icy blue eyes, which are staring back at him with bewildered anticipation. Yuuri can feel his heart beat against his ribcage, _loud_ , that even if he doesn’t ask Viktor if he can hear it, he sure knows that Viktor simply _knows._

Viktor smiles at him apologetically, a hand now perching on the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I actually… thought that you have a hidden talent in singing.”

Yuuri raises a brow at him. “What made you say that?”

Mirth suddenly makes Viktor’s face aglow. “Do you really want to know how high your voice is when you scream? At _night_?” And he lets out a chuckle, the hand touching his neck now sliding on the curve of Yuuri’s waist.

Because of this, Viktor earns him an extra adorable red-faced Yuuri. Before he can laugh, he earns a bonus—a tiptoed kiss.

“There…” Yuuri stares again at Viktor’s orbs, and Viktor can feel it piercing him as a whole. “…enough sugar for you, _Viktor_?”

 _This little monster,_ Viktor’s thought process lags for a while. The surprises don’t seem to be ending soon, and he doesn’t want to, knowing that Yuuri feels the same.

He yanks Yuuri’s body to him, and Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s lean frame. “What if I say, it’s not yet enough?”

Yuuri lets out a smirk and glances up to Viktor. “I thought it’s my birthday, and I’m the one in need of my _sugar?_ ”

 _And a little daring, too._ Viktor kisses the top of Yuuri’s head, sniffing the smell of his— _their_ shampoo. They’ve been using the same brand, yet it always smells different on Yuuri, as if it has a hidden scent that only blooms when Yuuri’s the one using it.

He feels Yuuri grip the microphone against the back of his shirt, and Yuuri snuggles against Viktor’s chest. “V-Viktor…”

“Yes?”

Yuuri looks at him again, and mumbles, “I-I’ll sing you a song, too.”

Tonight’s thought process has gotten a bit slower, and Viktor is unsure if it’s because he had put too much feelings in his song, or if Yuuri’s feelings are simply making a mess out of his head again.

“Are you sure?” Viktor clamps his hands on the small of Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri nods, the flare of conviction alive in his brown eyes.

“Okay then.”

As Viktor untwines his hands from Yuuri’s back, Yuuri suddenly murmurs, “No, you can keep them there, I just need a bit of…” he adjusts the microphone in between his and Viktor’s chest. “…space, like this.” And he closes his eyes, mustering the courage that’s still aflame in his chest.

Truly, the surprises won’t be ending soon enough.

“Alright,” Viktor lets his forearms rest against Yuuri’s hips, fingers tangled on the small of his back, and he shifts back a bit to give Yuuri enough space. Being in this lock feels a bit narrow, but Viktor can feel Yuuri relax into the lax embrace. “Ready when you are.”

Yuuri’s lids flutter open, and Viktor is captivated by the way how his eyelashes brushed his flushed cheeks. He wants to pull Yuuri closer, but no _,_ probably when the song is over or when he can’t keep himself any longer— _no._ He decides that he is going to wait until Yuuri is ready.

Yuuri inhales, and Viktor braces himself.

“ _You’ll be—“_ He starts and, “Ah, Viktor I’m not a singer, just reminding you—“

Viktor chuckles, and traces an aimless line on Yuuri’s back with a thumb. “Go on, sugar.”

Yuuri inhales and squeezes his eyes shut again, reminding Viktor of the cold rink, the first year together, and a silver medal.

“ _You’ll be balance when I waver,”_ Yuuri starts with his song, and he tries to control the wavering of his tune. “ _I'll be warmth when you are shivering cold.”_ He pulls the microphone closer to his lips, almost touching. Viktor doesn’t pay heed to the tune, but inhales the message of Yuuri’s every line. “ _You'll be patience when I've had enough of this waiting game. I’ll be the anchor cast below…”_ Yuuri finally points his chin up and smiles at Viktor sheepishly, feeling embarrassed by his bad singing yet determined to make his point across.

Viktor plants a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead, and it is his turn to initiate staring lovingly in those, sparkly brown eyes. “ _We'll take turns to untangle the knots._ ” Yuuri secures his grip on his new microphone, and his hips slowly start on a sway, leading him and Viktor to a small dance. _“Though our hands may be tied, it’s all a part of the plot.”_

“A plot, like why you asked me to stay like this? So my hands are tied?” Viktor comments and Yuuri only smiles at him timidly before continuing his song. _“Cats cradle; etiquette, we oblige, as we learn to enlace for the rest of our lives…”_ He totally loses the high notes with a slight shrill in his voice, but still gives it a try, and Viktor can certainly feel how Yuuri tugged at his heartstrings. “ _…the rest of our lives.”_ Yuuri finishes the song, not losing Viktor from his eyes, and Viktor not giving away any attempt to tear his gaze away from him.

“Well, that’s it…” Yuuri finally allows himself to grin, thankful that the song is over. “How are your ears?”

Viktor gives in and presses Yuuri unto his chest, a chuckle escaping from his throat, his heart still buzzing from the last line of Yuuri’s song. “…my ears are more than willing for Yuuri’s bad singing for the rest of my life.”

Yuuri lightly punches him with the head of the microphone, and Viktor coughs a bit. “Since you gave this to me, I’ll use it to the full extent. Endure it.”

“I can enroll you to a singing coach named Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor chokes a sob.

Yuuri knows that the sob isn’t something that Viktor is trying to exaggerate. He pats his husband’s shoulder and says, “Yeah, I heard he’s a great coach for a whole variety of things, but his tear ducts easily give away.”

“Hm, really?” Viktor hums against Yuuri’s hair, and gives the side of his head another peck before facing him.

“Happy birthday, Yuuri. I love you.”

“Thank you, Viktor. And, you know I love you, too.”

Viktor dips down his head, captivating the sweetest lips – the only lips – that are meant only for him.

-

When Viktor’s hands begin running on his back, Yuuri instantly confirms his assumptions where Viktor was trying to go when he was singing Sugar. However, Yuuri doesn’t bother to tell Viktor that he already knows, as he opens his mouth to let Viktor’s tongue glide into his, lips sliding into slow, wet kisses.

His fingers curl around the stem of the microphone, heat blooming from their sealed lips and spreading through his whole body. But his hands suddenly feel heavy with the weight of the microphone, and for a second he worries about the safety of his gift. His free hand smooths over Viktor’s shoulder, down to his bicep, and squeezes lightly. Yuuri withdraws from Viktor’s lips with a popping sound, and he huffs while showing the microphone. “I think… I need to put it back in the box… _before—“_ He meets Viktor’s eyes, and Viktor gives him a knowing look, then a smooch.

“Of course,” Viktor says, and Yuuri traces back a few steps to the living room, where he bends down to return the microphone in the box.

“Viktor—“ Yuuri tries to turn around, but he is immediately greeted by the minty scent of Viktor’s perfume as he gets locked in an embrace from the back. “—I’m done…” he repositions himself so he can face Viktor, hands perching on Viktor’s chest.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a while, before the skin at the corners of their eyes crinkle as they smile.

Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s neck, and Viktor languidly reaches for the back of Yuuri’s thighs, hoisting him to his waist. He brushes his lips on Viktor’s, trusting the way how he is being carried blindly towards their destination.

Viktor momentarily lets go of Yuuri’s thigh to twist the door knob. He places his hand back to support Yuuri’s weight, and saunters towards the bed. Instead of lowering Yuuri down to the mattress, Viktor sits on the edge of the bed with Yuuri sitting atop him. “Microphone’s safe?” He rests his forehead on Yuuri’s, eyes peeking into the brown orbs through the thin curtain of hair. He listens to the soft ruffling of the sheets as Yuuri relaxes on his lap, knees smoothing over the mattress and thighs encasing Viktor’s.

With fingers tracing circles on Viktor’s shoulders, Yuuri’s eyes lock into Viktor’s, and he leans in to kiss the bridge of Viktor’s nose. “Yeah. So, am I going to get another gift?” He asks, and Viktor chuckles at Yuuri’s tone, as if he already knew beforehand that this is actually going to happen.

“Deciding on the microphone was really spontaneous.” Viktor glides his hand from the base of his spine and traces it up to Yuuri’s nape, who jolts at the cold fingers ghosting on his skin. Viktor dips down and pecks Yuuri’s lips, the thumb of his other hand rubbing slowly at his hip. “But this one is totally planned.”

Yuuri thinks of a retort but fails to say anything else, as Viktor opens his mouth and lashes his tongue to devour Yuuri’s. He cups Viktor’s cheeks in his palms, tilting his head to the left to push himself deeper into Viktor’s, voice muffled beneath the kiss. This is one of his gifts, so he must show how to receive it properly.

Viktor’s hands land on Yuuri’s knees, rubbing the top of Yuuri’s thighs up and down, occasionally pinching the exposed skin. He slides up, fingers slightly touching the edge of his shorts and leaving a little tug before he rakes his fingers down, leaving sparks of heat underneath the skin.  He moves his hands upwards once more, the friction eliciting a long groan from Yuuri. He chuckles against Yuuri’s wet lips, and he continues on his ministrations with new ideas in mind.

Once Viktor’s hands return to Yuuri’s knees, he angles his wrists and presses his palms against the insides of Yuuri’s thighs and strokes upwards, delving his hands further into the fabric. The tips of his fingers graze the band of Yuuri’s briefs, and Yuuri halts from flicking his tongue in Viktor’s mouth, hands shooting to Viktor’s shoulders while trying to steady his breathing. But Viktor catches his breath again anyway, as he dives forward and bites on Yuuri’s lower lip, hands now ensnaring Yuuri’s ass, cradling each cheek.

Yuuri gasps the moment Viktor squeezes him. “Viktor—!“ He calls out, quite reproachful, but his protest dies in his throat with Viktor abruptly swirling his tongue in Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri purrs, and his noise becomes more pronounced as Viktor’s hands grope his cheeks and knead it in slow, circular, outward motions. Yuuri’s nails dig into the fabric of Viktor’s shirt, hands clamping down on Viktor’s shoulders. His heart gallops wildly in his chest, assaulted by the feeling of his rim being widened and flexed because of Viktor’s bidding. The excitement in his gut blossoms into heated pleasure, tickling him from his stomach down to his groin, and spreading to his manhood.

Viktor pulls away from the kiss, his icy blue eyes boring into Yuuri, who entangles his fingers with the soft platinum locks of Viktor’s hair. Their foreheads touch, shoulders heaving with every breath drawn in unison.  

Yuuri breaks the harmony almost immediately, suddenly yelping when Viktor’s hands leave his buttocks and slither to the top of his thighs, fingers not too far from Yuuri’s groin.

There’s an erratic pulse in between his legs, and Yuuri knows that Viktor already knows it, too.

“Not taking them off yet?” Viktor asks tenderly.

“Which one?” Yuuri breathily asks back, and Viktor’s smile grows too wide, the creases at the corners of his eyes forming. Yuuri brings up his left hand to catch Viktor’s right cheek, his thumb sweeping over the skin pulled back by a smile. He gingerly pecks the crook of Viktor’s nose, and calmly puts back his forehead against Viktor’s. “The shirt, or the boxers? Since you’ve been focusing too much on my ass and thighs.”

Viktor chuckles throatily. “Oh, you noticed?” He withdraws a hand from Yuuri’s shorts and meets Yuuri’s hand, melting into the touch. “But, you know, I was asking about the eyeglasses.”

“Oh…” Yuuri lets out a chuckle, too. “Maybe later.” He doesn’t want to miss seeing any of Viktor’s facial expressions – especially, _not now, nor later._

“Hmm-mm,” Viktor plants a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek, and Yuuri notes that his humming is akin to that of Sugar’s. He almost laughs.

Viktor licks his lips before sweeping them from Yuuri’s nose down to the corner of the other’s lips, and glides the tip of his tongue to the base of Yuuri’s jaw. Both his hands return to the insides of Yuuri’s thighs, hands curving to the shape of the tightening muscles to gently push them apart. His palms slither inside Yuuri’s shorts, finding their way to the cheeks of his buttocks, deliberately touching the groin but carefully sliding away from the crotch.

Yuuri can feel his head floating in delight, nails scraping against Viktor’s shoulders as Viktor lashes his tongue at the junction of skin beneath his earlobe. He doesn’t dare shutting his eyes, studying how Viktor leisurely takes his time teasing Yuuri’s body.

It’s a wonder to Yuuri how Viktor can calmly do this while Yuuri is becoming a ball of impatience, tightening from the core and begging for more.

The mattress shifts beneath Yuuri’s knees as Viktor hoists Yuuri’s ass, bringing the other closer to his body. Yuuri shudders as his bulge touches the tent forming on Viktor’s pants, and he can’t help but grow harder. He lets out a small whimper, the need to touch circulating in his body like wildfire.

The desire to get as closer as possible overwhelms Yuuri, as he gradually grinds against Viktor. Viktor chortles and one of his hands pull Yuuri towards him, his other hand now on its way to cradle Yuuri’s nape. His lips crash on Yuuri’s lips and their teeth clash in a second, all of the pretense of patience now cast away at the darkest corners of the room. 

Yuuri arches his back and eases his pacing, the bed lightly squeaking under his shifting weight. Viktor’s toes tip against the floor, his pants getting tighter as Yuuri humps on him without a pause. His voice rumbles in his throat while he hungrily drags his open mouth from the corner of Yuuri’s lips, to the soft skin of Yuuri’s ears.

“V-Viktor…” Yuuri whispers while Viktor nibbles on the top of his ear, deftly sucking on the skin until his teeth graze the earlobe. Yuuri’s thrust hitches and his thighs tighten, all of the restrained moans released in one, high-pitched gasp.

Viktor takes a mental note of reminding Yuuri that giving him the microphone was a perfect idea.

Yuuri’s fingers curl in Viktor’s locks, tugging rougher this time. The bits of pain make Viktor shudder in pleasure, and he abruptly tilts Yuuri’s head to nip at the skin behind his ear.

“Sing for me, Yuu~ri?” Mirth fused in his voice, he leaves a kiss before proceeding to plant butterfly smooches at the side of Yuuri’s throat. Yuuri’s bucking weakens as he points his chin up, allowing Viktor more passage to pepper him with more kisses.

Viktor hovers his mouth over Yuuri’s exposed skin, the gyrating on his crotch zealously feeding his lust. He wets his lips and kisses the hollow of Yuuri’s throat, then lashes the flat of his tongue up to Yuuri’s Adam’s apple. Once he feels the lumps in Yuuri’s throat, he opens his mouth and starts to suck it.

Yuuri grumbles, and his hips jerk with more force, urging a long, guttural moan from Viktor as he traced circles on Yuuri’s skin with the tip of his tongue. Yuuri’s thrusts deepen with every breath, feeling Viktor’s full erection against his own shaft, separated by thin layers of fabric. He bites his lower lip, hands clawing on Viktor’s shoulders in a poor attempt to stop trying to touch himself. The sensation is already driving him insane, but he needs something that requires their clothes touching the floor, and them lying on the bed. Yuuri closes his eyes and gulps, and as his throat bobs, Viktor shifts from touching his skin with his tongue to fully devouring the bulge of his throat. He squeezes his eyes tight, and replays of previous nights filled with huffed breathing, wet skin, and disheveled blankets swiftly reel in his head.

Yuuri shrills.

“ _Vitya_ …”

Yuuri transforms his needs to actions by unclamping his hands from Viktor’s shoulders and yanking the hem of Viktor’s shirt upwards. Viktor quickly withdraws from his bidding and lets Yuuri take his shirt off from him, revealing the well-sculpt pecs and abdomen clad in damp, white skin. Yuuri needs to see this in full display, and thus, he discards the piece of clothing somewhere in the room, pushes Viktor on the bed, and adjusts his seat on Viktor’s crotch.

With a mischievous leer, Viktor shoots a hand towards Yuuri’s hips to reach for the edge of his shirt, but Yuuri _swats_ Viktor’s hand away and proceeds to undress himself.

The sight before Viktor is truly a sight to behold, an exhibition that etches itself in his mind without any hint of reservation. It has always been like this with Yuuri, and he doesn’t mind taking this visual appeal in front of him even more than a thousand times. Yes, having sex with Yuuri surely is a wonderful thing, but witnessing Yuuri in his all dominant glory despite his usual lack of self-confidence outside their private moments will always be a surprise he’s willing to be floored for, for the rest of his life.

Viktor whistles, and he successfully perches his hands on Yuuri’s hips. “Well, that was something.” His lips curl to an even wider smile while watching Yuuri readjust his glasses. He’s really not taking it off, isn’t he? And yet, he’s still unaware how much his sexy face and his glasses turn Viktor on so much.

Yuuri rests his elbows at the sides of Viktor’s biceps, and he shifts his ass against Viktor’s hard-on. The red on his cheeks glows, but he skews his head to the side, deciphering how to start his kiss.

“You’re taking too long, Viktor.”

Viktor’s fingers sweep lightly on Yuuri’s back, tracing on the groove of his spine. Yuuri’s face softens, and he tries to even his shallow breathing. Viktor drinks the flushed expression on Yuuri’s face into his mind, and he drags his fingers down, _down_ , to the end of Yuuri’s spine, tracing idly on the skin.

Then he slips a finger in Yuuri’s shorts, flicking the garter and letting it snap on Yuuri’s skin.

 Yuuri lets out a small gasp from the stinging pain, and it’s all that Viktor needed to grab his shoulders and pin him on the bed. As soon as Yuuri’s back touches the cold blanket, the two of them clumsily settle on the wrinkled fabric, legs and feet rubbing against each other.

Viktor grips Yuuri’s wrists and nails them on either side of his head, a smile gracing his lips.

“Let’s wait a little longer, Yuuri?” He moves down and kisses the tip of Yuuri’s nose, knowing fully well what those words can do to the man underneath him.

Yuuri’s eyebrows scrunch up in defiance, brown eyes piercing into him. Then in a fraction of a second, he crumples his nose, glances at the corner while pursing his lips, then back to Viktor.

Yuuri heaves, and he looks back at Viktor, the space between his eyebrows narrowed.

“But why wait?”

Viktor brings the back of his hand to his lips, small bouts of laughter filling Yuuri’s ears.

Yuuri quirks a brow at Viktor. “What’s so funny— _oh…”_

He throws a keen look towards Viktor, lips not giving the slightest smile or frown. Viktor eventually stops giggling, and says, “Yuuri, I was only teasi—a- _ah—“_

Yuuri folds his right leg, his knee gently nudging on the hardened cock in Viktor’s pants.

“Aren’t you trying to make it _too hard_ for you, Viktor?” Now, Yuuri’s lips do curl into a sneer, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light. Viktor quivers above him, as Yuuri rubs on Viktor again before withdrawing his knee and straightening his leg against the bed.

Viktor hangs his head low and hovers his lips on Yuuri’s, voice dripping with both disbelief and affirmation. “You really are eros incarnate, my sugar.”

“I don’t know if I should feel happy about that or not,” he mutters, and Viktor savors the sweet, minty smell of his lover’s breath. Yuuri snakes his arms around Viktor’s neck, and Viktor immediately slams his lips against Yuuri’s.

Viktor’s legs tangle with Yuuri’s, abdomen firmly pressed against him. Supporting his weight with one elbow, he sweeps his tongue in Yuuri’s mouth, his craving for kisses more pronounced with every swirl. But of course, Viktor doesn’t intend the night to tease only the mouth, and he lets Yuuri know by freeing himself from Yuuri’s grasp, and pulling away from the kiss with a smooch on his chin.

Viktor brings himself on all fours and crawls slightly backwards, Yuuri’s frame caged under him. He bends his head forward and gnaws on Yuuri’s collarbone, his hand groping the familiar slopes of Yuuri’s body to find the hardened peaks of Yuuri’s nipples. Viktor croons, amused at how far he has led Yuuri into this point of stimulation.

 _To make things more interesting…_ Viktor blows on Yuuri’s left nipple, rewarding himself with a gasp and a thrust from Yuuri, and darts his tongue at the rim of his pinkish areola. He drifts his wet tongue on the pert skin, circling until it reaches the tip and Viktor swallows, gnawing on the tip with his lips. Yuuri trembles and moans beneath him, flexed hands flying on Viktor’s back and suddenly raking against Viktor’s skin. Viktor sees how Yuuri swings his left leg on Viktor’s hip while sucking on Yuuri’s nipple, his tongue fondling on the sensitive tit.

“V-Vitya—!”

Viktor hisses and his mouth meanders over Yuuri’s right nipple, mercilessly teething and tugging with his lips. Yuuri’s moaning engulfs Viktor in absolute thirst, bringing his other hand to pinch the unoccupied nipple, then proceeding to rub it in his open palm, all the while pleasuring the other nipple with his tongue lashing on it.

Yuuri squeezes his eyes tight, but immediately wills them open to keep on watching the way how Viktor praised his body—it’s ethereal, as if Viktor has always been meant to be the only person who can worship him in the right way. His back arches with every lick and bite, and the hurt makes him grumble, but also buck his hips forward—he can feel something surge from the bottom of his belly, the need for attention in between his legs becoming more and more glaring. His toes flex and dig and crumple the mattress, while the leg swung over Viktor’s hips instinctively press Viktor down to his body, seeking any contact that might satisfy his swelling.

With a pop, Viktor releases Yuuri’s swollen nipple and fleets over him, catching the gleam in Yuuri’s eyes, mouth watery with saliva. He smirks at Yuuri and plants a kiss on his forehead, before dipping down and tracing a kiss line on Yuuri’s cleavage and abs, a hand gently clasped on Yuuri’s ankle to guide his leg back to the mattress. When he reaches Yuuri’s navel, he unceremoniously pierces the hole with his tongue and firmly presses his lips on the skin around it, swiping in various pacing, and Yuuri’s shudders become more distinct.

Yuuri’s elbows burrow into the bed, and both his legs sling on Viktor’s shoulders. Yuuri’s crotch touches Viktor’s throat, and he savors the vibrations that send his head spiraling in carnal fervor.  

Feeling the throbbing in the fabric of Yuuri’s shorts, Viktor loudly grumbles, his throat trembling against Yuuri’s erection.

“ _Vi… Vit-yaaa_ —!” Yuuri drawls, fingers yanking on Viktor’s platinum hair, nails scraping his scalp.

Viktor suddenly lashes his tongue in his navel and Yuuri thrusts forward, and Viktor’s hands shoots at the sides of Yuuri’s thighs, trying to control his squirming. He smirks at Yuuri’s reaction, reveling on how aroused Yuuri has become after the prolonged stimulation. However, Viktor has more in mind, including things he can do to make Yuuri yelp in that high-pitched voice exclusive to their bedroom.

Viktor presses his hands against Yuuri’s hips and settles him on the bed, and unceremoniously pulls down the boxers to reveal the dark-blue briefs that Yuuri donned (he decides against teasing Yuuri about wearing briefs when he’s already in his boxers). Hooking a finger at the garter of Yuuri’s briefs, Viktor gingerly nips on the fabric and tugs it with his teeth, towing the briefs down at his left hip. Short and thin, curly hair grace the exposed groin, and Viktor decides that his desire to touch it will only be fully gratified after everything has been showcased. With that in mind, he proceeds to drag the right side of Yuuri’s briefs down, occasionally using his hand to let the undergarment slide loose from his buttocks.

Once the garter slinks down, Yuuri’s penis springs out of the slack tent of his briefs. The head of his shaft glistens with beads of precum, the shaft embossed with the throbbing veins of his cock.

Viktor whistles as he stares at Yuuri’s erection.

Yuuri props himself on his elbows and tries to protest in embarrassment, but Viktor shuts him up by roughly wrenching the offending garment from his legs to the floor, reaching for a pillow, and placing it under Yuuri’s buttocks.

Viktor looks up to Yuuri through long eyelashes, the curve of his smile devilish.

Viktor lightly prods the wet slit of Yuuri’s head with an index finger, and traces it to the base of his cock. Yuuri starts to shiver again, and his shivering becomes incessant trembling when Viktor wraps his hand around him, one finger after another. He slowly strokes upwards, sending jolts of hot electricity to every nerve of Yuuri’s body.

Yuuri searches for anything that is _Viktor_ , and immediately grabs for Viktor’s shoulder. Abdomen cramped from the awkward reach, Yuuri slowly hoists his torso and supports his weight with his right elbow, watching and _relishing_ every tight stroke of Viktor’s hand around his cock. His chest heaves every time Viktor’s hand plunged from the tip of his dick down to his balls, and he holds his breath every time it returns to his head and massages the slit with Viktor’s skillful thumb.

Viktor glances up to him with the same smile, albeit a bit more impish, and his pace suddenly quickens, making Yuuri’s face squirm and his head shoot backwards at the onslaught of excruciating pleasure.

“H-aa-h—!” Broken sobs reverberate in their room, and Yuuri’s griping is a melody to Viktor’s ears.

With a lick of his tongue, Viktor kisses the head of Yuuri’s penis, before lavishing it with the tip and flat of his tongue and swallowing it with a narrow ‘o’. Viktor’s lips wrap around him, and it’s taking all of Yuuri’s willpower for him to stay awake and watchful. Viktor goes down, _down,_ making sure that the grip of his mouth around Yuuri is tight. Perching his hand from Viktor’s shoulder to Viktor’s hair, Yuuri tugs the platinum strands without any hint of mercy.

Using one hand, Viktor cups Yuuri in between his balls, and he proceeds to caress each of it.

“H-itya—“ Yuuri’s voice hitches.

Viktor glides his mouth up, to the small patch of skin beneath the crown of Yuuri’s dick, and he swirls his tongue around the head. He bobs his mouth up and down, before withdrawing, to lick again at Yuuri’s frenulum and lightly nibble the skin with his lips, occasionally teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

Yuuri’s hand flies to his mouth as a long, slurred moan escapes from his lips. His legs fold on his sides and opens them wider in front of Viktor, giving his husband more access to the places where he needs him to be. 

Viktor immediately apprehends Yuuri’s actions, as he holds the insides of Yuuri’s thighs and pushes them wider. He suddenly quickens his pace, the peak of Yuuri’s cock knocking the tip of Viktor’s throat repetitively. And, with a huff from his nose, Viktor slowly drags his mouth down to the base of Yuuri’s shaft, and he glances up to Yuuri, waiting for the manifestation of eros take full form in front of him.

Yuuri’s hands release Viktor’s hair and dig themselves under his pillow, his chest heaving with each wheeze, fingers furling on the fluffy cushion. He tilts his head to the side and angles his chin up, his spine gracefully curving upwards. “Viktor,” he whimpers, almost inaudible, yet enough to snap Viktor back to the tug-of-war in his head.

He wants to swallow it – this quivering, needy Yuuri in front of him, and shove himself in Yuuri as soon and as deep as he can, just to hear the melodious moans escaping from Yuuri’s lips. But this, this needs enough build-up, and he debates inwardly if that’s enough tension already in preparation for something more hardcore, and—

Viktor’s pace stops momentarily as Yuuri slowly drives his hips forward, his cock gently gyrating in Viktor’s mouth. Viktor’s chest tightens, because _this is it_ , he can’t wait any longer, and Yuuri’s right in saying that he’s just making this too hard for himself. Damn, he’s _too hard_ right now. His eyebrows furrow as his hands perch on each crook of the back of Yuuri’s knees, and he strokes Yuuri’s erection with the same rhythm. Heck, he wants to touch himself now – he has been wanting to – but this is Yuuri’s night, so the satisfaction must be for Yuuri alone, the agape and eros of his life. But he’s literally rock-hard now, and if he doesn’t do anything about it—

“Vik-“ Yuuri peeks down at Viktor through askew glasses, the gradual, fluid motions of his hips only rising in intensity. Viktor gladly matches with his pacing, one of his hands groping the expanse of white skin on Yuuri’s thigh, the other hand scrunching the wet, curly hair at the base of his shaft.

Yuuri eyes shut tight, and he shouts, “Viktor!” He blindly stretches out to Viktor.

Viktor’s mouth tightens around Yuuri, before he rolls his tongue around the slick rod and plants a noisy kiss on Yuuri’s tip. He, then, slinks above Yuuri on all fours.

Yuuri’s eyes flutter open, and no dim light can hide the redness of his face and the saliva slinking at the corner of his mouth. He trembles with every exhale, and he perches his hand on top of Viktor’s chest.

Viktor leans down and bites on Yuuri’s lower lip, before entirely delving in the others mouth. Huffs and muffles distort through puckered lips, until Yuuri yanks on the waistband of Viktor’s pants.

“Take it off,” Yuuri says, and although he has been having a difficulty in breathing, the authority in his voice is evident, dripping with impatience and intent.

As Viktor hooks his fingers on his waistband to remove his pants, Yuuri sits up and reaches for the garter, too, warm hands touching Viktor’s skin.

The two of them bring Viktor’s pants and briefs down to the knees, exposing the long, hard cock that has been already soiled with precum. Viktor hears Yuuri gulp, and before he can even get rid of his pants, he glimpses at the Yuuri’s hand reaching for his dick, and notices that it might have been already slick with saliva.

“Yuu—hng—“ Viktor’s voice hitches in his throat as Yuuri spreads the precum with his thumb, down to the rim of Viktor’s head. Sparks of red and white circulate from his manhood to the different parts of his body, until he finds himself melting to the touch and inclining his body backwards, hands propped on the crumpled blanket. His erection becomes bigger and harder in Yuuri’s damp palms, and Viktor hitches his ass to meet Yuuri’s pacing.

Yuuri pants while continuously playing with Viktor’s dick, and he glances straight into Viktor’s eyes predatorily. “My gift?”

“What gift, this isn’t—“ He shudders at the sudden burst of pleasure when Yuuri’s pacing has grown slower, yet tighter, just as how Viktor wants his job done. “—not yet.”

“Not yet?” As if mirroring the way how Viktor sneered on Yuuri, the birthday boy returns the smile, and he unwraps his hands from Viktor. He plants his knees on the bed, hands snaking on Viktor’s thighs. “I wonder what it is, Viktor?”

Yuuri gently grips Viktor’s dick and swallows it without further ado, bobbing his head as he goes to and fro the length of his lover’s manhood. He releases it with a pop, and he feels Viktor’s hand pressing firmly on his shoulder when Yuuri licks Viktor from the top, down to Viktor’s base. 

“Honey— _fuck!”_ Viktor lets out a sharp gasp, his chin shooting upwards when Yuuri seizes his dick and strokes to the tip, thumb rubbing the nub, while he greedily fondles on Viktor’s left nut with his wet mouth.

Viktor’s fingers tangle with Yuuri’s fringes, combing them up so he can see the craving in Yuuri’s face. Yuuri and the smothering in his eyes beyond his moist eyeglasses; Yuuri and his hot mouth around Viktor; Yuuri and his uncontrollable, pleasured groans while licking him—it sets Viktor further to the edge, and the need to release blossoms in his gut.

Yuuri sweeps his tongue to the other testicle, massaging the creased skin in his mouth.

Strangled moans echo in the room, and Yuuri immediately understands that the man who has been trying to make him come seems to be the one who’s going to need immediate relief. Before he can even grant it, Viktor twitches under his touch.

“Yuuri—“ He pleads, and Yuuri halts in his bidding.

Viktor huffs and pushes Yuuri on the bed, his hand flying to the drawer of the small dresser beside their headboard. He clumsily opens it and gropes for the bottle of lube, before returning in front Yuuri.

Gripping the bottle in his hand, he leans down to capture Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri complies and dives into Viktor’s mouth, letting Viktor taste his own juice through his tongue. The sickeningly sweet and musky smell mix in their kiss, and they inhaled into each other as if they are one another’s lifelines.

With a smooch, Viktor pulls back and kicks his pants away, then he sits in front of Yuuri to uncap the bottle of lube. He tips the rim of the bottle and watches in weird gratification as the thick liquid pools in his palm.

Viktor glances up to Yuuri, who in turn locks his eyes with him.

Viktor seals the bottle and leaves it on the mattress in between his legs. He might need a lot of lube for this.

He bends down. “Yuuri, will you please open up a little?” He asks with a sly smile, his icy eyes glinting at the other. “Do you want me to explain to you why?”

Yuuri looks at his hardened member and spreads his legs, hands on each groin.

“Just show me,” Yuuri says in a low, calm tone, the brewing storm in his eyes dangerously staring at Viktor.

Viktor smirks.

He slides his middle finger in Yuuri’s tight anus, earning himself a small whimper from Yuuri. Knowing-full well that one simply won’t do, he slides in another digit, and he notes the way how Yuuri’s eyes squint. A smile grows on Viktor’s devious lips as he rubs his fingers to and fro, watching as Yuuri throws his head backwards and balled hands support his arched body.

Yuuri’s hips find its rhythm and move in unison with Viktor’s fingers, his loud, clipped breathing a harmony to Viktor’s ears. Yuuri’s chest heaves up, then down, and it hitches, when Viktor slips in the third finger and slowly scours in his rim, then spread apart, scissoring him.

Yuuri looks down at Viktor with glasses askew, and he sees the admiration in Viktor’s eyes as he teased Yuuri’s entrance. Yuuri bites his lips in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and he doesn’t exactly know whether he wants Viktor to continue fingering him, or if he already wants to stop the waiting and fill him with Viktor himself.

Slowly, Yuuri lowers himself against the mattress, and puts the back of his fist against the bridge of his nose.

Viktor does not remove his fingers from Yuuri’s entrance, but he scoots forward, other hand reaching for Yuuri’s wrist. He moves Yuuri’s hand away from his face, and he kisses him, wet and languid. He moves his fingers inside, and Yuuri gasps in his mouth, and Viktor recognizes that he has finally touched Yuuri’s sweet spot. Yuuri lets out a guttural moan, as he closes his eyes to feel more.

But much to Yuuri’s dismay, Viktor slides his fingers out of Yuuri.

Viktor plants his forehead against Yuuri’s, and he drawls, “Should we wait a bit more?”

Yuuri shakes his head disbelievingly, the flaming need in his brown eyes aglow, and Viktor kisses him one more time, before crawling back to where Yuuri needs him to be.

Viktor reaches for the bottle of lube again and slathers his dick with the slimy liquid, hissing at the cold biting his skin. He gives himself a few strokes to cover himself with the gel, then throws the bottle on the floor.

“Yuuri…” Viktor calls out, the tip of his cock lined in front of Yuuri’s entrance. “…my love.”

Yuuri places the back of his hand against his lips, and he nods.

With a soft intake of breath, Viktor tips his hips forward, drawing the head of his cock in Yuuri’s entrance.

Yuuri has received him countless of times, but the look on his face every time Viktor entered him has always fascinated Viktor—Yuuri’s lips are always agape as he faintly sips the air, while his eyes stare intently at the way how their bodies connect. While Viktor languidly sheathes his length into Yuuri, Yuuri’s eyes drift to meet Viktor’s, a gravel moan escaping his lips.

It enamors Viktor how Yuuri patiently takes all of him in, without giving away any hint of hesitation.

Viktor dips his head and plants a kiss on Yuuri’s nose, hands cupping his cheeks. “Everything okay, _lyubov moya_?”

Yuuri bites his lower lip, obviously controlling himself from what’s stirring underneath, painfully aware of the hard mass inside of him. He clasps his hands together behind Viktor’s nape, and he gingerly angles their hips to a more comfortable position. His lips flutter on Viktor’s mouth and leads the two of them in a short, gentle kiss, before he breaks apart and says, “Yes.”

Viktor stares at him in a beat.

He chuckles.

Yuuri raises his brows at him. He’s here, underneath Viktor, who’s laughing at him, and he doesn’t know whether to mirror the mirth of his husband, or to be, at the very least, annoyed for ruining the moment.

“What’s so funny—“

“Here’s my gift for you,” Viktor catches the lobe of Yuuri’s ear and nips it, while his hands trail down to Yuuri’s thighs and hoists it to his waist. Instinctively, Yuuri entwines his ankles together, all the while not knowing what’s going to happen next—until Viktor lifts him up from the bed and pulls him close to his chest, and his skin bids farewell from the smooth mattress as Viktor stands up from the bed, with Yuuri snuggled on his body.

Even the slightest movement causes Yuuri to whimper, and his walls tighten around Viktor’s shaft as his husband carries him towards he doesn’t know where. Strong arms are wrapped around him, as one of Viktor’s hands support the weight of his ass, the other firmly holding to his arm.

“You know, I kinda researched this.”

The cold slowly patches against the warmth of Yuuri’s back as Viktor presses him against the wall.  Yuuri tightens the grip of his entwined fingers, while Viktor puts both of his hands on Yuuri’s buttocks.

Yuuri gulps.

 _Oh_ , so this is husband’s new gift.

Upon seeing the delight and anticipation glimmering in Viktor’s eyes, Yuuri… _chuckles._

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Viktor raises a brow at him, his lips tugged to a pout. “I researched this, and you’re gonna laugh at me?”

It only makes Yuuri laugh even more. Here they are, Viktor standing in front of him while hoisting Yuuri against the wall, _naked,_ with a dick inside of him, and yet, it never fails to surprise him how the living legend is actually a living _dork_.

“First thing in the evening, you give me a microphone and you start singing to me.” Yuuri hangs his head low, and he can slowly feel his weight being pulled by gravity, his aroused dick starting to sag. However, thinking of his next line makes him flush, and saying it loud with an embarrassed smile on his face rejuvenates his spirit. “I can’t believe we’re having sex.” He bites his lip. “ _And_ you’re actually giving me a new sex position as a birthday gift.”

Viktor chortles, and captures Yuuri’s lips before saying, “You don’t seem to dislike it.”

Yuuri kisses Viktor shortly, and quips, “I didn’t say anything about disliking it.”

Viktor opens his mouth and glides his lips on Yuuri’s, darting his tongue inside to whirl it in the walls of Yuuri’s mouth. His hands knead the mass of Yuuri’s ass, intent on arousing the younger man even more.

Reading something from the internet and applying it in real life, especially during sex, is actually no piece of cake, but Viktor compensates with all of the information that he has obviously forgotten with what his body yearns him to do.

“Put your legs here,” Viktor instructs, and Yuuri hooks the back of his knees at the crook of each of Viktor’s arms, as if his legs are in a W position. Viktor places his hands on Yuuri’s waist, tips his toes, and pushes his hips forward.

Yuuri purses his lips as the force comes within him, his muscles narrowing against Viktor’s dick. It’s a very awkward position, he notes inwardly, but what shoves into him the next second bends his head against the wall, thoughts discarded somewhere in the back of his mind.

Viktor bends his knees to give them more juncture. Beads of sweat trickle down to his chin, and he slams into Yuuri, who slides up against the wall with a whimper. The muscles of Yuuri’s calves tense against Viktor’s forearms, and taking this as a sign of pleasure, Viktor thrusts again, the difficulty in position only giving him a challenge he wants to surpass, in order to satisfy Yuuri.

But it doesn’t feel comfortable enough for any of them.

Viktor breathes heavily, and he slightly straightens his knees, resting his forehead against Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri perches his hand on Viktor’s hair, the tips of his fingers playing with the locks of platinum strands.

“Viktor,” Yuuri casts his eyes on Viktor.

Viktor looks up to Yuuri and asks, “Yes, my love?”

“I can’t…” He gnaws on his bottom lip before he continues. “…see you like this.”

And an idea pops in Viktor’s head.

“You really want to see my face?”

Before Yuuri can protest, Viktor detaches Yuuri from the wall, manhood still clenched in Yuuri. Yuuri entwines his fingers tight behind Viktor’s neck, as Viktor carefully supports Yuuri’s weight with his strong hands holding each side of Yuuri’s waist. Viktor bends his knees and slightly leans forward, and not a hint of fearing from falling on the floor crosses Yuuri’s mind.

Viktor is the only one who mattered.

“Now, you can see me,” Viktor’s lips curl into a seductive leer.

Yuuri wants to reach up to him to plant his lips against Viktor’s, but he basks in his husband’s passion and lust, and decides to respond to him with a smirk. “And, now what?”

“Now, here.”

Viktor tests the waters by moving his hips backwards before slowly thrusting, while his hands clasp on Yuuri’s sides and gently slides him down to his thighs. A groan escapes from Yuuri’s lips, feeling the drag of his walls against Viktor’s length, cheeks flushing an extra layer of red. Taking this as a sign of pleasure, Viktor slinks Yuuri up and down, a bit faster, and Yuuri’s calves tighten, another bell rung for Viktor. He tries one more time, a lot slower than the first one, and Yuuri moans in time Viktor bottoms him, eyes locked into icy blue orbs.

“You like it.”

It wasn’t even a question, but Yuuri says, “Yes, Vi—“ and before he can even say more, Viktor gradually picks his pace. Skin slams against skin, and wet noise permeates the room that reeked of a mixture of mint, slight eau de toilette, and musk. Viktor watches as Yuuri’s lips part with webs of saliva in his mouth, eyebrows scrunched up, and glinting amber eyes through the sheen of his lenses. Viktor slams harder, wanting to see more of this Yuuri, needing this needy Yuuri: the love of his life, the life of his love, and the lust of his everything.

Viktor can feel the coil within him burn as he delves deeper, and Yuuri gasps, the head of his dick bouncing against his abdomen.

“I--!” Yuuri chest repeatedly heaves, the urge to remove a hand to touch himself painfully restrained. “I’m near, V-Vitya—“ and a long grunt cuts him off, feeling the knock of Viktor’s tip to his prostrate almost sending him to the edge.

Viktor can feel himself nearing the edge, too, his panting in almost perfect synchrony with Yuuri’s. He craves to dive in deeper, but his forearms are already growing weak. He wants to make the climax as perfect as possible, as relaxing, yet as challenging, as unforgettable as it can be. Yuuri’s hold is also starting to strain his nape, and he scoots them nearer to the lip of the bottom of the bed, dipping Yuuri’s torso on the soft mattress.

The feel of the soft blankets against his back and the cold that licked his exposed skin made Yuuri hiss, but his thinking is pulled back to the heat filling in him. Viktor angles him up, hands guiding Yuuri’s thighs to cling on his hips. He bends down.

Viktor grips tightly on Yuuri’s hips, both thinking about how it will bruise against Yuuri’s pearly skin.

Yuuri’s fingers claw on the mattress, and if only blankets can also bruise, could have been left on it.

Viktor languidly delves in him, while Yuuri’s rim tightens, letting the friction attack him from the inside out. Viktor pulls, and pushes, in time with every inhale and exhale, sweat slicking on each patch of skin and pooling on any nook of his body. He almost dares to close his eyes to feel more, to have more of this euphoria, but he cages himself in the flare of Yuuri’s eyes, staring deep into his soul.

“Yuuri…”

He pulls again, slowly.

Then he rams in him.

“V-Viktor--!”

Viktor grunts, all reason thrown away as he slides in and out, harshly beating against Yuuri’s skin while reaching for that sweet spot within Yuuri. He isn’t sure anymore if his pacing is slow, or quick, but he made sure to tend to that area that makes Yuuri writhe beneath him.

Viktor bends down and slams in, and he hears his voice being called.

“Vitya--!”

He suddenly quickens his pace, pushing Yuuri against the mattress, creating waves of creases on the blanket that pool around Yuuri’s beautiful figure. Viktor breathes heavily, and Yuuri’s chest is tense.

Viktor pushes in.

Yuuri gasps, voice shrilled, his high-pitched cry a melody to Viktor’s ears. Warm, white liquid spurts out from his dick, splaying across his and his husband’s abdomens, and before Viktor can even mouth for Yuuri’s permission through his trembling lips, he empties himself within Yuuri’s walls.

They stare at each other for a while, dazed and panting.

Viktor pulls himself out of Yuuri, wet skins plopping as cum drips from Yuuri’s rim and Viktor’s head. He lowers Yuuri’s legs on the floor, then plants a knee on the brim of the bed, hoisting Yuuri like a ragdoll up to the disheveled pillows. He doesn’t mind getting slicked by their body juices, but he knows how Yuuri likes being clean, so he tugs at the corner of the blanket and uses it to wipe away any other traces of cum on their bodies.

Yuuri, on the other hand, silently watches Viktor’s ministrations, his throbbing body savoring the silky fabric beneath his skin. When Viktor pulls away to tug for the blanket, Yuuri wishes for the time to fast forward, so he can quickly wrap his arms around Viktor despite being sticky with sweat and cum.

Once done, Viktor settles beside Yuuri, elbow tucked on a pillow with the side of his face resting in his palm.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Yuuri lets out a weak smile, the weariness starting to veil on him. He remains quiet, and simply looks at Viktor’s growing pout.

“What, no words of endearment for me?” Viktor complains. “You know, I even—“

Yuuri shuts him up with a kiss on his swollen lips, the events of the night replaying quickly in his head as he closes his eyes.

“I love you.” Yuuri stares into Viktor’s eyes again, and he takes Viktor’s hand to guide it on his waist.

A tint of pink stains Viktor’s cheeks, and he nestles closer to Yuuri. “Well, did you like my gift?”

“Sugar,” he calls Viktor. “Whatever gift you give me…” Yuuri closes the space in between them. “…you will always be what I need.”

They wind their arms around each other, the source of one another’s warmth in the fading blue moonlight.

The microphone stays tucked in the box at the living room, and Makkachin gladly paws on it, not even wondering why his parents won’t be waking up any time soon after sunrise has arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> Sunrise have arrived when I finished this and the birds are singing. Wow, I finally found the time to finish this! My first full-blown smut fic (ha ha ha). Research has been made. I didn't know writing a full-length smut can be so challenging. Thanks for reading! (I can finally sleep he he ; u ; )
> 
> Songs used are Sugar by Maroon 5, and Tethered by Sleeping At Last.


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